yestopleaseasyes
by Thatwouldbesuper
Summary: A certain character reflects on others around him as well as himself. Thoughts on love, duty, and morbid desires. Stream of conscious fic. One shot.


He was not in the mood. Not right now, not ever.

He just didn't want to hear she was alive.

The feeling was mutual, he knew, but still; the idea of her searching for the relic was amusing, if not disturbing. Mint was not the sharpest tool in the shed, but she wasn't the dullest, either. Well, it didn't matter, he supposed. Kirielle or Narcius would take care of her. He'd certainly like to take care of her, but he had affairs of state to attend to.

He was definitely not in the mood to hear the second piece of information.

So, his dear little brother also walked this path? Perhaps he had regained his memory?

No, he just wanted that woman back.

Oh, how he would loved to be loved like she was.

He needed a break.

Karwyn left at his command. It was nice to have Karwyn; he was always there when needed. A grin tugged at his lips. Karwyn said such funny things about love. How would that be possible?

His attention was turned to the documents upon his desk. He sifted through documents of law and timeless necessity. He had to be up to speed at all times.

He needed one hell of a break.

He leaned back and sighed and took in the room around him, gaudy and obnoxious as his clothing. Everything about this kingdom fit for him, now that she was gone. It was perfect, and if he left the scab alone, he could probably live here forever and never be unhappy.

But he wanted to fill that void. It tingled inside him in a creepy way that made him feel gross and unfortunate. Valen would fill that with his soul, wouldn't he? He'd fill it up so much that his own would burst into a thousand joyful pieces that would scatter on the ground and join the new, perfect soil. He yearned for that explosion.

But he felt that there where other things that might cause a similar explosion. Maybe if he believed Karwyn. Maybe then he would explode.

Or Rue. He would simply combust if Rue said the kind of things he would say to Claire to him.

He just needed to feel important, didn't he?

A knock shook him from his thoughts. Maya entered; she was a strange creature indeed, intent on his every behavior to the point of obsession. His every move was in her documentation, and his every thought was subject to her inspection. She took the things he said into great consideration and analyzed them with great effort. He wondered if he said something incredibly stupid, would she take a day to think it over?

Would he take a day to think it over, too?

What of Valen, or Rue, or Kawyn?

Narcius wouldn't think twice of it. Narcius would see if for what it was.

Wouldn't Mint as well?

Yes, she would.

She finished talking and left, but he wasn't completely aware of what she said at all.

He didn't want to listen today.

He wanted to cry.

He stopped.

What was wrong?

Nothing was wrong.

Nothing was wrong.

Nothing was wrong.

Maybe he believed Karwyn now.

If he did---oh god---

The thoughts stopped coming.

There was no explosion, just a tiny pop.

Then the thoughts came again. Thoughts about laws and rules and duty. Yes, this was all he really needed. Haha, what a silly thought.

That Karwyn; there was a reason he was called Psycho Master.

Other than that was what he named him.

The room closed in around him. It wasn't a room, but a prison. Fear clenched his entrails.

ohgodohgodohgodohgod

pop

Part one: Resurrect Valen

Part two: Give him a new physical being

That was all he needed

that was all he needed

that was all

He pushed all the papers off of his desk, he kicked over his chair, he tore at those gaudy, obnoxious walls and sheets and clothes. He tore the mask off his face, and stared deep into wild frightened eyes in a shiny mirror.

You know you can't, those eyes said.

I need to, he responded desperately.

y

o

u

c

a

n

t

d

o

i

t

He got nauseous and dizzy

can't

He found his washroom with difficulty

can't

He became sick in his toilet

can't

hecouldn'tbreathe

hewouldn'tbreatheifhecouldn'tdowhathe

had

to

do

can't

pop

He stared blankly at the ceiling,

but then he smiled

He wasn't in the mood. Not now, not ever, to be what he was. He was ready to

kill her

or even

kill him

if they stood in his way

he would

kill

kill

kill

there was no other way.

The image of his brother twisting in pain filled his thoughts and he couldn't stop himself in his mind, tearing him apart in every way he could. Licking his blood from his fingers.

He didn't want it to come to that, but he was willing.

The flesh is willing but the spirit is weak.

Weak.

Yes, he was weak.

There was a knock at his door.

It was Karwyn.

pop

Needesireroticharmorextremenoughelplease

stopleasevenowhyestoperfectakeasyouseless

yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes

He said nothing now.

Nothing.

What did he do?

The night sky was brilliantly dark

stark

starless

but beautiful

What had he done?

I can't

I love you

I can't

can't

pop

Karwyn had said words which he didn't hear.

He didn't feel like listening.

He just felt like staring into that cracked, white, bathroom ceiling.

It was enough for him.

He stood and stared into that gaunt, sick face.

Into that dark, lifeless stone.

Those tired, cold eyes.

He was not in the mood to hear the word can't, so he eradicated the apostrophe-tee from his thoughts.

You can, said that face. You can if you try a little harder.

I can.

Can.

He placed his mask on his face, and returned to the corridors and gaudy decorations and his perfect world. His anticipation made him weak and giddy.

He couldn't wait to explode.


End file.
